


Mystery Box

by beekeepercain



Series: In Fewer Words [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, Caring John Winchester, Childhood, Fluff, Gen, Young Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9453566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beekeepercain/pseuds/beekeepercain
Summary: It's a very special day for Dean.





	

* * *

 

Dean raises his arms and makes a sound of anticipation as John kneels beside him and grabs him. The ground vanishes from beneath Dean’s feet and for a moment, he’s flying: a quiet, timid giggle leaves him before he attaches firmly onto his father’s shirt. John lets out a sigh - he’s tired again.

“You should sleep sometime, Daddy.”

“I should, shouldn’t I.”

John’s fingers are big and warm as they enter Dean’s trimmed hair, and they brush through, rubbing gently into his scalp as they pass. He’s so big and so firm and so warm and safe, and Dean doesn’t want to let go; on the floor, Sammy’s making noise. He’s battering the floor with a toy cube in his hands and shrieking excitedly, and Dean looks down at him thoughtfully.

“What’s he doing?” he asks, finger slipping between his lips.  
He digs at the edge of his tooth and sucks the fingertip before letting his hand down; he hooks it back into John’s shirt.

“I don’t know. Hey, Sammy. Sammy? What are you doing?”

“Daa.”

“Alright.”  
John gives Dean a conspiratory glance.  
“How about we leave Sammy to fix up the room a little, and go look at what I brought you today?”

“Mmh.”

“It’s a special day for you, kiddo.”

Dean’s shy smile widens a little. He clutches John’s shirt harder and nuzzles against his chest.  
“Is it something good?” he asks, a little nervous.

“What do you think it is?”

Dean puffs and hides his face into John.  
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, grinning, and dares to peek a little when they go down, down and down all the way to the floor where the mysterious box sits idly.  
“Is it in the box?”

“Yep,” John tells him, moving his butt onto his other arm and picking up the box with his free hand. They turn around and the world wooshes away around Dean again as they go up: the floor’s far down, but he’s not scared. John will keep him safe.

He rides on John’s arm to the table, and there, the box gets lowered onto it and he gets lowered into a chair: he leans forwards and grabs the box, slides his small fingers over the top and breathes a little heavily with anticipation. He looks at his father and bites at his lip.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Open it,” John chuckles and sits next to him.  
He drags his chair closer and brings his arm around Dean as Dean starts pulling off the top of the box.

Inside sits a freshly baked apple pie - and it’s got text on it, but Dean can’t read it. He reaches inside the box and picks up the pie: with John’s help, they place it on the table next to the box.

“What’s it say?” Dean asks, daring to smile again, and John smiles right back at him, widely, lovingly, and all is well in the world.

“Let’s read it together,” John tells him and picks up his hand.

Together, letter by letter, they spell out the text.

“H - A - P - P - Y… B - I - R - T - H - D…”

Dean draws in a breath.  
“I know what it says!” he calls out with held-back excitement.

“Well?” John laughs, pulling him closer so that he’s right there underneath his arm, their chairs touching and Dean’s hand on John’s thigh for balance.

“Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday to who?”

“Me!”

John laughs again, and he bends down to place a soft, yet rather wet, kiss on Dean’s forehead. He’s got a big mouth - it covers most of Dean’s forehead, or so it feels. Grinning, Dean wipes the stain off.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” John tells him, looking him in the eye, “I’m really glad that I’ve got you.”


End file.
